I spent five nights in Cordoba, the first of two destinations in Andalucia, plus five nights in Madrid, last month, March 2024. I’d not been in Cordoba in many years although I am familiar with other cities of Andalucia, a region that I’ve been visiting lately in the weeks prior to Semana Santa.

As I mentioned, I had 5 nights planned but the first was a wash; American Airlines lost my suitcase and along with it, any clothing that would help mitigate the cold and rainy weather that persisted for much of my stay. And as my day of arrival was a Sunday, there was no hope of a foray to Zara to replenish.

An aside: Like most places in Spain, the majority of restaurants are closed Sunday nights and many are shuttered all day on Monday. So plan accordingly.

So while I missed one planned dinner due to lack of clothing, I managed to pack in a lot of good eating during the four days I was left with in Cordoba (before heading to the Costa de la Luz, near Vejer and Barbate). Extra bonus, it was SNAIL SEASON, which turned out to mean great things for the food focused visitor.

If there’s anyone not familiar with the Repsol guide, this is the Spanish version of Michelin and for my taste, a better source for choosing where to eat in Spain than its French counterpart. Three soles, or “suns,” is the top Repsol restaurant ranking, equivalent to three Michelin stars.

LA CUCHARA DE SAN LORENZO (one Repsol “sun”)

This is a small, contemporary restaurant that would not look out of place in Nolita or in Madrid, and one of the few top restaurants to be open on Mondays.
Bare tables, cool design in the front dining room, where I sat and where I counted about 10 tables.

In addition to the regular menu (la carta in Spain; the word, “menu” means something else), there were four off-menu specials. These are recited orally, so you might inquire if you are not informed before ordering.

I began with one of those “fuera de carta” specials and it was very, very good: A mixture of mushrooms atop a log-shaped brioche bread.

My second dish was my favorite, gambas al ajillo, which might be THE quintessential Spanish dish and perhaps the best-known to foreigners with the exception of paella (do not get me started on that topic, please). The version here was fantastic, small and very juicy shrimp, a few with heads, in a stellar sauce replete with plenty of garlic and spiked with pimenton, or smoked paprika. and parsley. Happily, it came with a good chunk of brown bread, essential for mopping up all of the piquant sauce.

Third dish was not as successful. Manitas Deseshuadas, or deboned pig feet. This is another iconic Spanish dish but one that I’d never tried, so I felt I ought to take the leap. (I should have ordered to please, other than educate, myself!) This version was stuffed with jamon Iberico and foie, but I did not taste much of any stuffing. Unfortunately, it was very fatty but not in a good way, to me anyway, so I left a good bit on the plate. I just wish that they had rendered more of the fat but maybe that’s not the way it’s done.

Service, from the owner, was excellent and I would return here, and certainly recommend the restaurant. they take online bookings. The carta is in Spanish but I think they have a QR code English version.

With a glass of local Montilla wine, my bill was 52.90
Photos taken about 4pm (lunch) on a Monday

Photo 1–dining room
Photo 2–Mushrooms on pan brioche (special)
Photo 3–Gambas al Ajillo—WOW!!
Photo4–So great I had to post 2 pics
Photo 5–Pair of deboned pig feet, manitas deseshuadas

Add images here



This is another well-respected restaurant outside the tourist-drenched Mezquita neighborhood, but an easy walk from almost anywhere in the center of Cordoba. The pretty, very white premises make a beautiful setting and service here, as it was everyplace I ate on this entire trip, was excellent. The restaurant was quiet on the Tuesday night I ate here, arriving about 9pm.

I was with two Americans friends, who were quite happy with their salmorejo and their salads of ventresca (the prime part of the tuna, the fat-laden belly).

I restrained myself in ordering since my choice was the suckling pig that I remembered so well from meals at Jose Maria in Segovia. TABERNA DEL ALMODOVAR has a suckling pig on their menu, available for two diners. Despite the fact that I was in Cordoba and not Segovia, I chose this dish, available only for two persons.

My (obviously very large) portion was quite good, despite this being Cordoba and very much NOT Segovia and, as the waiter was happy to demonstrate, the pig, with its bones, could be cut with a plate which, as you will know if you’ve been to Segovia and especially to Meson de Candido in that city, is one of the “tells” of a great baby pig. (suckling, of course, as it has been raised only on its mother’s milk). One could write a treatise on the regulations for raising and serving suckling pig in Segovia but this is not the time…

So there you have it: Lovely restaurant, top service, good range of menu option. I would recommend, especially if you are looking for a quiet place a bit apart from the action. Next time, I would stick to more local specialities but that goes without saying. What can I say? I had a craving!

I will also say here that in this restaurant, and in every restaurant I visited on a three-week-plus long trip, exemplary service was the norm.

Photos: The kind waiter demonstrating the cutting of the baby pig with a dinner plate: the suckling pig (serving meant for two); the dining room:


I knew nothing of Cordoba’s Snail season before I arrived and even then, if I had not had a food discussion with the taxi driver (the first of many food discussions with many taxi drivers on this trip–there’s no better topic of conversation and some of these drivers taught me A LOT!!). who took me from the train station (I took the wonderful fast, IRYO train from Atocha just after arriving from the US), I would still know nothing.

From March until late May or early June (do not quote me on these dates) the city sprouts “puestos de caracoles,” snail stands. What a delight!! I spotted one on the Plaza de Juan Bernier but most are not in the Centro.

So one night I left the hotel and walked to Avenida Cervantes in the modern neighborhood on the edge off the center, to PUESTO DE CARACOLES LOS PATOS #1. Since I was bound for EL BAR DE PACO MORALES (the baby sibling of NOOR) located nearby, I figured I’d stop in for a bowl of snails before dinner.

in 3 letters (plus an exclamation point, or three: WOW!!!

They serve various sizes of snails (land snails) in a few different iterations. I ordered the largest size, in “brodo,” which turned out to be a terra cotta bowl of very large snails in a reddish, slightly spicy broth.

I was given a toothpick to urge the snails out of their shells. My, oh my–these were FANTASTIC!!! I wish I had been able to try all the various sauces or broths–some have morcilla or other meat, according to the taxi driver who had enlightened me… He also told me that the snails are cultivated in Morocco and brought here in season. (have to read up on this).

All I can say is that if you think you might like snails and you are in Cordoba in spring—find a snail spot and enjoy!!! I don’t have the bill in front of me but the price for a giant serving was about 4 euro, and it comes with toasty bread to sop up the sauce…oh, boy, I am still thinking about those snails. Imagine how great one could eat here on a budget???

Of course, I ran into a snag when I realized that I had neglected to bring my wallet along, but that’s another story and it all worked out just fine.


Great photos, as usual.
We did miss having the snails, although we found them at a tiny little bullfighting theme bar off the Plaza de las Tendillas.

We did, though, have two delightful meals at both La Cuchara de San Lorenzo and Taberna de Almodóvar.
At the former, we went at a very, very busy time, the Friday night before Palm Sunday (el viernes de dolores) and because there was a procession at the medieval church on the San Lorenzo square, the restaurant was packed.
The owner, Narciso López, was far too busy to chat as he rushed around directing diners to the new upstairs dining room.
The all female wait staff, snappily dressed (fashion forward), with perfect make up and perfectly coiffed, although very efficient, were not inclined to spend a great deal of time explaining the menu either.

You´re spot on about the very contemporary décor, designer-chic place settings and buzzy atmosphere. It could have been any modern bistrot in Manhattan or Seattle or on Jorge Juan in Madrid.

We started with a plate of. alcachofas (artichokes) in season, I had the gambas al ajillo as well, which were delicious. My husband enjoyed his chipirones rellenos (stuffed squid).
We should have tried the flamenquín or the rabo de toro, but they’re too heavy for us at night. We did share a lingote (covered with “gold”) de chocolate for dessert.

A solid Bib Gourmand for value, with the above dishes, 2 glasses of fino, bread service and 2 glasses of white Tempranillo, our bill came to 76.30.

For lunch, we also chose Taberna de Almodóvar, and arriving early, at 1, we had the lovely gentlemen waiters to ourselves in our all white alcove at the back of this very popular, locals’ restaurant. Because our waiters were so friendly and chatty, we enjoyed this dining experience even more.

We had a stew of cardo (cardoons in season), baby clams (coquinas), grilled sea bass (lubina) with garlic and parsley for two, just wonderful, and a homemade torrija (pain perdu), well, because we were in Lent and it’s the obligatory dessert for Lent and Holy Week.

With 2 finos, the bread service and aperitivo, a bottle of Alba Balbaína from Bodegas Barbadillo in Sanlúcar (a perfect compliment to our sea bass), our bill came to 88.65, another Bib Gourmand value.

When we left, all the dining rooms and the outdoor terrace were filled with happy, local diners. Both restaurants are pleasantly off the beaten tourist path of the Judería.

Another early dinner (8:30 before the Mezquita-Cathedral evening tour) that we enjoyed both for the cuisine, the calm and the elegant ambiance, inside the historic quarter but on a quiet street just above Bodegas Campos,
La Ermita de la Candelaria, housed in a former 15th century hermitage (and hospital) in a beautiful, cathedral-like setting with well spaced, elegant tables and also a lovely staff.
The owner, Javier Campos, is of the Bodegas Campos family who left to open his own restaurant just up the street. The interiors reminded me a bit of the elegance of La Carboná in Jerez.

Here we enjoyed anchovies from Santoña (Cantabria) on buttered brioche, corvina, a pastel de pato (shredded duck), 2 glasses of fino, bread service with a lovely salmorejo amuse bouche, orange ice cream and 2 glasses of Emina (Ribera del Duero). Total bill: 77.10. A great value in such a lovely, relaxing setting.
It boasts a new Repsol sun.


Gracias, Maribel.


As I said, this is the sibling to Paco Morales’ celebrated Three-Repsol-Sun and Three-Michelin-star NOOR. It’s nothing like NOOR, but I had a pleasant very small dinner there, since I had my large appetizer plate of snails a few blocks away.
It’s a slick contemporary bar/restaurant and service was especially warm, provided by my waiter, from Torino. The menu projects a good sense of humor, but I think there was only one in Spanish, although there are English speaking staff who, as I mentioned, are super warm and friendly.

My first dish was an off-menu special: Croquetas de Queso Oveja with black garlic. Excellent. 9.50 euro

Next, most delicious leeks in a béchamel with Migas (bread crumb/pork dish from Extremadura) flavored with bits of morcilla (blood sausage) 15 euro

And finally, it was a tough call between the roast goat and the off-menu pork ribs. I like to try goat in Spain (or Italy) because we don’t see it much in New York, except for at some ethnic restaurants, like those with Haitian or Jamaican or Indian slants. And the one time I attempted to make at home, for a Christmas dinner, no less, turned out to be the gravest cooking disaster in my life. But its almost always terrific in southern Europe.

However, because it was a special, I chose the pork ribs. These were good, but not unusual in any way, so I’d recommend maybe omitting those and trying the goat, or anything else that calls your name. 22 euro

My bill, with a glass of Montilla, was 52 euro.



If I were asked to recommend ONE place to eat in Cordoba, this is the place I would probably settle on, with a few caveats*.

It is the only purely traditional restaurant I ate in during my four full days here. To use the word “adore,” would not be an exaggeration.

Founded in 1880, it is one of, if not THE, quintessential Cordobes Taberna. (I also had Taberna Salinas on my list but need to leave that for what I hope will be a next visit. I imagine it is not too dissimilar to El Pisto). Unlike some places where the history trumps the current experience, EL PISTO feels just as much a symbol of Cordoba as it might have been fifty or even a hundred years ago.

(I’m leaving NOOR out of this segment because the differences between the two eating spots are so extreme that it’s impossible to compare them side by side. By all means, if you can get into NOOR, you should go (I had no trouble booking about 6 weeks prior, but I did this before they received their 3rd Michelin star and in a random check, I see that they are booked solid three months ahead.

I loved EL PISTO and, if I lived in Cordoba Centro, I can imagine I stopping by anytime I wanted a small or large meal out, or just a little drink. I wonder if there are locals who view it as they might view a private club…

The menu is large, focusing on the gamut of local dishes (please know that Andalucia is a large region, perhaps the largest in Spain and the cuisine varies a lot from city to city, from coast to upland. Menus here had scant overlap between menus in Barbate, for example, although th two cities might be about 2.5 hours distant.

There was .lots of banter between patrons and servers, patrons and other patrons…the epitome of a neighborhood gathering spot. Even I, to my notice the lone female English speaking outsider was swept up in the amiable back and forth. When I look at my photos, I see snaps of myself with various groups of people who I can no longer recall…but I do remember a lot of chatting from table to table, with waiters chiming in.

Far be it from me to comment on their take on the various iterations of traditional Cordobes dishes. I did not have the capacity to sample too many, and I have no basis for comparison since my last visits to Cordoba took place decades ago. Not once did I taste flamenquin. Or pisto!!!

But minute for minute, euro for euro, this restaurant gave me a tremendous amount of pleasure. Its a warren of rooms embellished with hand-painted tiles and complete with wooden beams, wood wine barrels (for setting your glasses and tapas plates), wrought iron, lots of greenery, tons of photos including tributes to legendary Cordobes icons. There’s a special corner dedicated to Manuel Rodrigues Sanchez who anyone who knows Spain will know as Manolete, who might be the nearest thing here to a deity in human form. (Maribel has brought to our attention that the former home of Manolete, which was also the home of Jose Ortega y Gasset, is now an upscale nearby restaurant which has received respectable reviews…). An older woman selling lottery tickets wove between tables–adding to the scene.

EL PISTO, according to their own words, is “a tavern which is a living museum to the history of our city,” Take one step inside and you know you are in Cordoba. The present seemed to fall away for me, both times I dined here.

Service was good if a tad brusque, but warm and kind to this outsider. The experienced, mostly older male waiters zip around to taking orders serving…it’s not the place to ask for details about every ingredient in salmorejo or if gluten-free bread is available. (For all I know, it might be!). Constant movement defines the restaurant, from the dining rooms to the eternally packed bar area where 2 people can stop in for a Montilla and a few tapas of sheep cheese or mejillones en escabeche for less than 20euro total, or (preferably with a reservation) for a full meal… My advice is to try to take a look at the menu beforehand and do not take an eternity questioning the waiter. Menu in Spanish.

EL PISTO looked packed whenever I passed by, which I did often since my hotel (Hospes Palacio de Bailio) was around the corner. I do not recall hearing any English spoken; even though EL PISTO is very famous, its location in the center but outside the Mezquita zone, means that you need to seek the place out; you won’t stumble upon it in your sightseeing. Make a reservation (phone) if you want to sit at a table!!!

Some photos of the restaurant, beginning with a few pages of the lengthy carta


For anyone reading along and not being able to snag a coveted reservation at Casa el Piso, especially on a Saturday, when there will usually be a wedding at the church next door, or during the busy May festival, here’s a trick or two:

Be at the door at or even before 12:45, before the door opens at 1. Be the first in line, and when the door does open, run straight to the “Manolete” room, to the left of the buzzy bar, whose walls are lined with Manolete photos and memorabilia.

Grab one of the 4 barrel tables (without chairs) to stand and enjoy a number of these classic tapas. The waiter will come over to take your order, and yes, study the menu before online to as not to hesitate, as he’s extremely busy. Pleasant but doesn’t have much time to chat or explain the dishes in detail. And order a Montilla-Moriles wine.

Or…ask the gentleman at the bar ( running interference at the door leading to the courtyard dining room to make sure patrons have reservations) if you can sit in the ante chamber of the dining room, a small room with only 3 small tables for two, that on our visit, weren’t reserved or at least weren’t reserved for early dining at 1.

I asked the waitress while waiting outside, through the open window, if that would be a possibility, if we just wanted to have a few tapas (seated) before the crowds, and she said she would try to accommodate us, but my husband preferred to stand in his favorite Manolete corner to survey the always lively scene.

It was so busy that there were patrons happily enjoying their tapas standing inside at the open window facing the square. Any “real estate” you can grab in the crowded bar area will do, as the wait staff will make sure you’re attended to.

Or…there are about 10 outdoor tables, 5 directly in front of the restaurant and another 5 to the left, around the corner in another open square, that are never reserved.
Some patrons took their places at those tables before the restaurant even opened. However, these are the bare tables sans umbrellas, not the covered ones that are reserved for the tavern next door. Yes, you’ll be able to enjoy El Pisto’s traditional dishes there but you’ll also miss out on all the fun going on inside.

And order the refreshing mazamorra, a cold, thick soup of almonds, bread crumbs, vinegar and garlic garnished with slices of boiled egg, olives and sometimes slices of purple grapes. Delicious! The best version I had on my recent trip.

Mazamorra, much thicker than ajo blanco, is what salmorejo is to gazpacho.


Maribel, that is a wonderful primer on El Pisto…thank you!!
Even in early March, the restaurant was always full.

Was I correct in mentioning TABERNA SALINAS in the same category?
How does that compare–food and atmosphere–with EL PISTO?

Here are a few photos of the outside, and the interior; you can see the blond lottery ticket seller, in yellow, in the first photo. The second photo shows the wine barrels, perches for a Montilla, or a cana, and tapas, with the very dapper Manolete keeping watch.
The last photo shows the bar area, in the front room


Great photos!
The second one is our Manolete corner. Córdoba has been the cradle of several legendary bullfighters in addition to Manolete—El Niño de la Palma, el Cordobés (who was the legend during my youth and still lives in the city, now 83 years old) and in more modern times, Finito de Córdoba, now retired but still young.

El Pisto, for me, is more atmospheric than the other traditional tabernas.

By the way, lottety ticket sellers are a ubiquitous presence in provincial capitals, in bars and taverns and also trinket sellers who go from table to table, to tempt diners with their wares, especially during fiestas.

In December, we can split a ticket to El Gordo! (Spain’s biggest lottery, drawing before Christmas)

When we win, what do you think?

Flat for each in Salamanca.
Second home for you…where?
Second home for me??? (Rural Asturias, near coast and easy drive to airport (repeat visit already in my sights) ; rural house near Vejer or Jerez, easy drive to beach; inland or coastal Catalunya???)

Here are photos of my dishes during two (small) lunches at EL PISTO:

  1. Mazamorra. Notice the pretty embellishments atop the cold soup. Very thick.

3,4. Rabo de Toro, bull’s tail stew. Traditional dish of the lower economic classes and a way to make use of one of the cheap parts of the animal. Now an emblematic dish in much, if not all, of Spain. Meat falls off the bone; you would never know this was the tail of an animal unless you were told. It is NOT like oxtail in that there are not many bones; not sure of the difference. I guess oxtail would be cola de buey in Spain but I do not recall seeing it on menus.

This dish was good, with nice and soft meat, but I wish there had been some browning of the meat. Maribel, is it ever well-browned before final cooking in the sauce, or is this the usual? Is there any prior browning of the meat? (I thought the one I saw at CUCHARA DE SAN LORENZO had meat with a lot of char). House made chips.

  1. Suggestions board; I sampled three of these dishes, each one emblematic of the Cordobes kitchen.

  2. Salmorejo, the classic cold soup, topped with chopped har-boiled egg, and bits of jamon de los Pedroches, the ham of Cordoba province. Superb rendition of another signature dish of Andalucia.

7 Berenjenas con Miel; A personal favorite and iconic dish of parts of Andalucia, particularly Malaga and Cordoba provinces. Squared batons of eggplant (can be made with slices as well) with honey for dipping. Lightly crispy on the outside; soft and creamy within; the joy comes with the combination of textures. EL PISTO accompanies the eggplant with a small portion of salmorejo. .

Many recipes advise soaking the eggplant in milk first, before flouring and sautéing in pan; not sure if this would be essential but perhaps it depends on the freshness and variety of the fruit. I imagine that deep frying is an option. (I want to try this at home soon).

In Cordoba, honey is the preferred dipping sauce for this iconic dish. Malaga province dips their fried eggplant in the dark cane syrup local to the nearby town of Frigiliana (the dark color of this syrup makes me wonder if it is not, indeed, cane syrup and not honey as listed on the menu); I prefer the more intense flavor of the cane syrup to the honey prevalent in Cordoba, and mailed home a few jars, yet to be opened.

I’ve said this, above but it bears repeating: What English speakers know as a “menu” is called a “carta” in Spanish. A “menu” in Spain is a set sequence of dishes, frequently served as a value priced mid-day meal, “comida” in Spain. It can also be a fixed price meal served to groups, often during holidays or celebratory meals for large tables of diners. So if it is not presented to you upon sitting down, ask for “la carta,” and not the “menu,” unless you want that mid-day fixed lunch.

Also important (I see many complaints related to this on review sites): At the end of the meal, the bill will not be dropped on your table, or presented to you until you specifically request it. And then, if you are paying with a credit card, the wait person will bring a portable machine to your table and process your card, always within your view. So do not think you are being ignored if you do not get a bill after putting down your final fork or spoon!!! (And be sure, if asked in either restaurants or hotels, to specify that you want to pay with your card in euro, not in the currency of your homeland, which will result in a higher total price due to a practice known as “dynamic currency conversion,” or DCC). This is true throughout Spain, not only in Cordoba.)

My “highlight” dinner in Cordoba took place at the three-Repsol-sun and three-Michelin starred NOOR, currently considered one of the finest restaurants in Spain and one of three entries in Cordoba under the helm of the family of Chef Paco Morales…I’ve commented on my dinner at EL BAR DE PACO MORALES and will describe my experience (unforgettable!) at NOOR shortly.


More lovely photos!
I believe that is indeed cane honey on the berenjenas. All the ones, berenjenas con miel, that I’ve had in Córdoba are topped with caña de miel, as listed on the menus. Next time I want to try the flamenquín de rulo de cabra y cebolla caramelizada. Sounds terrific.

I’m so glad you mentioned the bill issue. First time visitors just don’t understand that the bill is never presented automatically after you finish your last course. You ask for it when you want to leave, after you’ve finished your “sobremesa”, the social conversation with your friends that takes place after your meal, often accompanied by a complimentary house “chupito”, a shot glass of patxarán or crema de orujo, (which we enjoyed at Taberna de Almodóvar) or a GT. The “sobremesa” is sacred.

We pay everything now (including a cup of coffee) with our contactless c.c. Spain is becoming a cashless society. Because we have a Spanish bank account, we no longer have to be vigilant about the incredibly annoying DCC but visitors certainly do and should always check to see if their charge is carried out in euros or dollars. Always choose dollars. With AmEx there is never dynamic currency conversion.

Thanks again, Maribel!

Is cana de miel (sorry about the lack of accents in all my writing; I need to learn how to include these) the same as the one from Frigilliana? I was referring to “cane syrup” but then correct term is cane honey?

I adore that eggplant dish…and I regret that I never had the room to taste the legendary flamenquines!

My big decision is choosing the next future destination in Andalucia (or Extremadura) to combine with Vejer/Zahara area!! Such a large region with so much wonderful food, and variation between the various provinces of the region. I imagine that Jaen/Baeza have many dishes not found in Cordoba or Cadiz provinces.

Would you mind letting us know which online sites offer the deepest information on the food and restaurants of Andalucia? El Pais is wonderful, but there must be others, and also Instagrammers that you would recommend following for restaurants throughout Spain… Azahar is miraculous for Sevilla; I already follow her, and of course I follow your own Instagram!!!

It’s not the same one as from Frigiliana.

Don’t get me started about Jaén and Baeza!
They are now THE gourmet Mecca of Andalucía!
Every food lover, food blogger, gastro critic is talking now about the “Jaén province phenomenon”.
At the Michelin gala, stars were given to Bagá, Malak, Radis and Dama Juana, plus Vandelvira in neighboring Baeza.

Bagá in Jaén has become a food lover’s pilgrimage site. It’s tiny and of course reservations are extremely hard to secure.
All my Madrid food obsessed friends (chefs included) have made the trek there recently to eat at Bagá and Vandelvira.
There was a recent ABC Gastronomía article about this.

These two simply gorgeous Renaissance towns with stunning Vandelvira architecture are next on my Andalucía adventure. I’ve been during Holy Week but not recently and have to get myself down there again.

HUGE mistake. I meant always choose EUROS!!!

Very nice photos of El Pisto, @erica1. I was seated exactly where the solo older gentleman was in your fourth interior photo. I felt the food was good but not up to the standards of what I had been eating in Sevilla, but the atmosphere of the place more than made up for it. (I had been contemplating El Bar de Paco Morales and Garum 2.1, but it was a day trip, so I had a single lunch only.)

One small addition to the discussion of payment at the end. We found that in Spain, when they brought the machine, they would wait, not only for you to check if the bill was correct, but also to hear a number from you, in case you wished to round up the bill, which we usually would do (or make it a little higher, if it was already a round number). That is, a tip of 5-10%. This does not happen in Lisbon, where the tipping culture has not crept in (at least not in the non-touristy places we tend to go to) and they will just type in the number and present the machine for your tap without any fuss. The one exception in Spain was, I think, at Tatema in Madrid, where the server said, “No! Not on the machine!” and typed in the actual bill amount. The way their procedures worked, I guess.

1 Like

That’s really interesting about waiting to hear a number from you, in case you wanted to leave a tip. I’ve never experienced that in my dining here yet.
They’ve never asked me for a number; they’ve just typed in the actual amount, and I pay with my contactless bank card.

I haven’t been to Barcelona this year, but…
I’ve read lately in several Spanish (not English) press articles that a particular restaurant (which will remain anonymous) and a large ice cream chain, upon the waiter’s delivering the bill to the table, diners see a note on the bill that includes a “suggested tip”.
In one case the clients have 3 options. The first is “no tip”, the second is a suggested 5% and the third, a suggested 10%.

This has started a heated debate here about the “implantation of the American tipping culture into Spain”.

Here’s an article in Spanish (will try to look for one in English)

It could just be our three words of Spanish in total, delivered in a Portuguese accent. They don’t ask for a number, and I had the sense that if we acted clueless and said “The bill looks correct,” they would just type in the number. But when we round up, there’s no surprise, just a modest thank you. All very low-key (not like some countries I know).

They often show me the number on the machine just to make sure that I know they’ve typed it in correctly.

I take that back, miel de caña that they use in the berenjenas recipe in Córdoba is produced in Frigilana. I did my research.

Prabhakar, I’ve never been asked for a number for the payment. I usually leave a small tip in cash, but never more than 10% at most and then probably mostly only in a really high-end place. Five percent more likely for me but always in cash. Sometimes nothing but that is no comment on the service; I’ve had endless discussions about this in Spain and from what I heard (sometimes I’d even ask diners sitting next to me) many do not leave a tip. Not surprising that in Barcelona tips would be more expected… Same in Italy. People have told me that some waiters in Rome point out that “tip is not included.” Say that to me and you will not get one.

Agree with you 100% about EL PISTO it’s much about the atmosphere; food was excellent but yes, not as stunning as the top Sevilla places. but we are both going for the local Cordobes dishes. I’m not familiar with many really traditional Sevillana places apart from Enrique Becerra, Abaceria de San Lorenzo, B. Romero, Casablanca, etc…

So Jaen and around (???). Hmmmmm.
Or Caceres and around (???)

Need a new thread on this…